The Dobre's Funeral Home for Ideas
by LicoriceTeaWithNoButter
Summary: Why was Gilbert always dumped? No one quite knows, but no matter how many heartbreaks he could go through, there was always The Dobre's Funeral Home for the Deceased, where the most peculiar idea yet may just solve all of his problems./CURRENTLY ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**'****Hetalia'** and all of its characters belong to the wonderful **Hidekaz Himaruya**

**Starbucks** is not owned by me, and should not even be thought of as such.

To say that Gilbert could not keep a girlfriend for more than 2 weeks was truthful, but a very broad spectrum. To be more accurate, Gilbert's longest time was 1 week, 4 days, 3 hours, and 37 seconds, which just happened to run out on a very overcast afternoon on some avenue in Seattle that he didn't take the time to remember due to the fact that he knew this would be the approximate location of his metaphorical broken heart.

The location of his actual broken heart would be coming out of his mouth in the form of various babbles in German and English to a frenemy down the street three blocks who was working at the nearest Starbucks, or the fourth nearest one. He couldn't quite remember anymore.

Although Gilbert knew all these facts plus many more that he would only dare say in German, he was still as heartbroken as any other would be. Maybe more-so, considering the fact that instead of a fairly peaceful breakup as the previous ones had been, it was very abrupt. Of course he had known that _she_ was cheating, but he prayed to whatever god that would hear him that she would find some sense and break up with the other.

He was proven wrong.

So here he was, conversing for someone who most likely cared more about the politics of some island in the Pacific than she did about the well-being of Gilbert's heart.

"Oh, and then she was just like 'Oh, well, it was nice dating you!' in that really happy squeaky voice as if we were in the 7th grade! How could she?!"

"Oh well, Gilbert, I'm sure I can make you feel all better by getting you another espresso!" Elizaveta just rolled her eyes and continued to wipe down the counters, trying to ignore Gilbert's delusional conversation with himself and his impersonation of herself.

"Elizaveta, that is so kind of you~ maybe after you get me my espresso, you can dump Old Roddy and date me instead!"

"That would be just wond-"

Eliza threw the chemical-covered cloth onto the countertop. "You know Gil? She was a real slut. Like, if there was a way to just rename her right now, I would name her Slutty McSlutslut." Gilbert's head fell onto the table at full force, leaving a sickening, hollow 'thud' to be heard.

"But Eliza! She loved me! We could have gotten married together! Had children that were awesome (but not as awesome as me), and gotten old together. How am I supposed to get over her?"

By this point of the conversation, Elizaveta would have offered some very helpful and useful tips. Gilbert would go back to his home, cry away whatever frustration he had left into the shoulder of his younger sibling, and then gone to bed, forgetting that anything happened at all.

But alas, in order for this story to continue, Elizaveta snapped.

"Okay Gil! Here's the reason why all of your relationships end in a metaphorical form of a Kamikaze plane: You are a terrible human being. You are narcissistic, one dimensional, boring, bland, unexciting, and a complete idiot. No person on the face of the entire planet would like to date you. Do you understand now?!"

"…HOW COULD YOU BE SO HURTFUL TOWARDS ME DURING MY DARKEST TIME?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!" Then cue the Prussian to burst into tears.

But Elizaveta did not care, for everything she said was true in her perspective, and even though she knew she probably did lose one of her (only) friends, she had been wanting to say that since the 5th grade.

"Sure that was a bit harsh, but what I said was true. Also, you need to stop coming to me for advice on how ton love someone. Just because I'm dating does not make me some sort of magician in love."

After those words, Gilbert and Elizaveta both went silent. And silence is never a good thing when it is a mutual silence between an egotistical Prussian and a very dangerous, frying pan-wielding Hungarian. Silence between the two can cause side effects such as suicidal thoughts, thoughts about getting wasted, thoughts about doing drugs, and thoughts about a certain Romanian who worked and lived 30 minutes away from their location.

This time, the silence between the frenemies ended in the last effect, and so once Elizaveta was off work, she drove the both of them down to a mortuary where only the insane would think of going to.

* * *

Even though throughout the many years of some bitter hatred and bliss friendship, Elizaveta would still call Gilbert a 'friend,' which is a term that is used lightly, considering that he was the one who tormented the Austrian Roderich Edelstein that she was currently dating during the entirety of their lives.

But the Romanian was someone she would never consider a mere 'acquaintance' even if that was the only thing that would ever keep her alive.

No, no, the Romanian was her only enemy and would stay that way until she went insane (which luckily, she has not yet).

So why were they heading over to the location at which said Romanian worked? Because the very clockwork of Gilbert's broken heart may fall apart if they don't. So Elizaveta had to confront the man she hated just so she could save another man that she also hated.

The trip though was living hell. Although the entire trip may be around 45 minutes, the constant sighs and sniffles and sobs made the trip seem like 45 days. So once they arrived at The Dobre's Funeral Home for the Deceased, where 'We're there for you,' Gilbert was oh so carefully told to walk home.

Once up to the large double doors on the front of the building, they rang the doorbell repeatedly until a very angry and tired Vladimir opened the doors.

"What?! What is so important that you must interrupt me in the middle of my nap?" Elizaveta smirked deviously at her accomplishment, making a mental note that at Vladimir took a nap at 2 PM every day.

"We are here because we need ideas." The Romanian raised an eyebrow and the beckoned the two inside, slamming the door behind him.

"Sit down there. Don't speak until I get comfortable. Don't touch the organs in the jars. Don't chew on the pens." It was usual for Vladimir to order these steps when ideas were to be conversed, so they took a stool each and sat down, waiting for him to sit down in his spinny chair and face towards them, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Alright then, let's begin! What is the idea needed for?"

"MY BROKEN HEART. THAT'S WHAT IT'S NEEDED FOR." Vladimir was taken aback by Gilbert's sudden outburst.

"Alright, broken heart. How severe?" Vladimir ducked down behind the front desk and pulled out a note pad, then stole a pen from the pen holder.

"Pretty severe. Wouldn't even be convinced after a slight joke. Had to tell him some pretty harsh stuff. Got it?" He made a slight 'Mhm' to the Hungarian then wrote the note's down.

"Has this happened before?"

"13 times before, Vladimir. You know that."

Vladimir looked up at the pair, then down to the notepad, then back up to the pair with a smile.

"Well then. The idea needed to cure this, and this is only an idea, is to kill someone."

Why did Vladimir suggest this? Because Gilbert couldn't keep a girlfriend for more than 2 weeks. Which was awfully true, but for a more exact measurement, Gilbert's relationship ran out in 1 week, 4 days, 3 hours, and 37 seconds at 1:03 PM on a very overcast day in Seattle on a street that he didn't bother to remember the name of.

* * *

**Guess who got sudden inspiration? THIS GIRL.**

**Also, a quick little note: This new fanfiction will not be at all a replacement for 'Once It Snows.' If you are following or reading Once It Snows, it will be updated tomorrow.**


	2. Chapter 2

Roderich Edelsein was not the type of person who liked to put himself and his body through physical exertion. He preferred to only do what was necessary, and nothing else, being the (lazy) elegant man he was. The first thing the Austrian was known for was his strange zeal and even bizarre natural talent in music. He could play many different instruments, the one he was best at being the piano, the instrument he was most likely more attached to than to Elizaveta. The second thing that he was known for though, was his fights with Gilbert Beilshmidt- or should he say, Elizaveta protecting him and Gilbert being beaten up by said Hungarian with a frying pan.

Roderich, though, was not entirely useless. He could keep a secret when needed and make a _delicious_ chocolate cake, and out of all of his talents, he could clean like Ludwig. His house was always spotless, except for the used and abused pairs of clothes (specifically underwear) scattered around his home.

And if I already didn't mention it, he made wonderful chocolate cakes.

Though the reason why Gilbert was being dragged across the Austrian's perfect yard to his equally perfect looking house was for the air of cleanliness that followed the man wherever he went, for you cannot commit a murder without disposing of any serious evidence leading towards a killer. So once Elizaveta and Gilbert both managed to tell Roderich of the plan, he threw them back onto his perfect lawn, for uncivilized people are not welcomed onto a property such as his own.

This caused the two to sneak into his back yard and break into his house through his open window, where they sat him down on one of the many used chairs (which varied in both style and condition, some looking brand new and others looking as though they had been attacked by an angry hippopotamus) and refused to let him go back to repairing some old clothes until he was fully on-board with the plan.

"I'm sorry to say, but murder is not something I would like to be associated with." Gilbert rolled his red eyes and sighed.

"We aren't asking for _you_ to murder anyone, just for you to cover _up_ the murders with your totally unawesome cleaning skills!" Elizaveta shook her head and phrased it into different words.

"Listen, Roderich, we just need you to clean up whatever mess everyone else makes. It's fairly simple, and you could do it quite easily!"

"And maybe we'll pay you and you can actually buy new things instead of repairing the old ones!"

Roderich huffed at the statement made by the albino. "I would rather save my money, thank you very much. Besides, everything here is perfectly new anyways. I mean look at my clothes; perfect!" It was true, Roderich wore very proper clothes, but he was an aesthetic person, and didn't care too much for what items and objects looked like on the inside, like the wonderful example of his home.

"Listen, Roderich Edelstein. We can either kindly convince you to help us, or I can bring unwanted guests into this fine establishment that you call a home. Now, Roddy, what do you say?" Elizaveta's voice was like snow, unforgiving and soft to the touch. And although the usual bystander would beckon to her every will once hearing this voice, Roderich was so used to it he met her steely gaze with his own.

"The only time I would even consider murder would be in the case of a terrible fight, and even then I would not resort to such barbarism." Before Roderich could even process what he had just said, Elizaveta had her phone out and was dialing an unrecognizable number.

"Eliza, please, who are you calling now-"

"My cousin. He knows how to deal with people who don't talk and cooperate." Roderich sighed and got up, walking towards his kitchen.

"Whoa, Roddy! Get back here! You aren't going anywhere!"

"Oh please, Gilbert. I would just like to quench my thirst and cure my parched throat with a cup of hot tea. I'm sure if there were beer around, you would do the same." Gilbert didn't have the energy to argue back, and knew that Elizaveta would yell at them both, considering she was having a very animated conversation over the phone line.

Tino Väinämöinen was quite the talker when he wanted too, and he often wanted to be just that. He would hold up the oddest conversations, sometimes going from the snowy north to the history of Japan without a second thought otherwise. Those around him were used to these mainly one-sided conversations. Lukas, a quiet man from Norway, would sometimes takes sips of his plain coffee to indicate he was still aware of the words coming from the Finns mouth, or simply raise an eyebrow at a point of interest. His younger sibling Emil would do almost mirror the elder, with the exception of few opinions that flowed from his voice. His other friend, a Dane named Mathias, was the polar opposite. He held out through these conversations, laughing and adding even more bizarre topics to the already peculiar air of the conversation.

Berwald though was probably one of the few people though he didn't _need_ to respond in any sort of way, Tino just knew he was mentally adding in his opinions. Though even he would get lost at some points, texting the other simple questions about what the hell he was speaking of.

_'__Tino… what are you talking about?' –Berwald, 2:45 PM_

"Oh don't talk to me like that, you _know_ what I'm talking about!" Tino usually didn't let his anger get to him, but his patience was running low.

_'__Honestly, I don't understand what has gotten you all upset. Did Mathias or Ivan do anything?' –Berwald, 2:46 PM_

It only took a matter of seconds for Tino to respond with another burst of anger. "Listen, and listen well, Berwald. I _know_ you gave the rest of _my_ coffee and to that, that, _pathetic_ excuse for a-" His phone buzzed at the signal of yet another text message.

_'__Emil said he'd get you another bag later. Lukas apparently flipped out when they found out they didn't have any coffee and wouldn't let Emil out of a 2-foot range of himself. It was the least I could do for him.' –Berwald, 2:47 PM_

"HE COULD HAVE SIMPLY PUSHED LUKAS'S LAZY ASS INTO THE CAR AND DROVE SOMEWHERE TO GET HIS STUPID COFFEE INSTEAD OF USING MINE!" Berwald sighed and began to text again, but was interrupted from a ring coming from the Finnish male's phone.

"Moi moi?" His teeth were grinding against each other in frustration.

_"__Tino? God, what the hell has gotten into you? I don't really care actually. Listen, I'm over at Roderich's house and I need you to come over here and smack some sense into him."_

"Why? I don't see why you can't do that. Besides, I'm talking to Berwald right now." The Hungarian across the line muttered a few words.

_"__Ti, if he's trying to get into your pants, just-"_

"That is not the current situation!" Berwald's eyes bore holes into Tino's back, and Tino covered the base of the phone in order to not let any words come out and find their way to Berwald's ears.

_"__Well then just come over!"_

"Oh yeah, and just leave Berwald home alone at my house?" Elizaveta held in a giggle.

_"__He really was trying to get into your pants! Holy crap Tino! How long did the kissing last?!"_

"Eliza! We weren't making out! We had a friggin' argument!" Tino's face was a deep shade of red, and Berwald seemed to show a small smile at his words.

_"__Oh. Well... that sucks… so does that delay the marriage plans?"_

"Okay, Eliza! I'm coming over. I'll be at Roderich's house in 15 minutes. I'm binging Berwald though, because I don't trust him near my home." Tino hung up the phone, not wanting to continue their chat.

"Alright, Ber! We're going to be at a truce for the next hour. Maybe in that time period, you can find a 101 ways to apologize about your treason against me." Berwald grunted and got up, following Tino across his living room to his car.

By the time Tino arrived, Elizaveta was truly upset. Halfway through the interrogation, Gilbert tried to punch Roderich, who then proceeded to hurl insults in fear. This caused the chain reaction that Tino and Berwald both walked in upon, which was Gilbert who had a black eye who was being chased by Elizaveta who had an unforgiving fire burning in her ivy green eyes, while Roderich was hiding next to his piano.

"Oh Tino! Glad to see you could make it! You too, Berwald! Haven't seen you in a while!" Elizaveta was exasperated, with all the chasing and the constant bickering between Roderich and Gilbert.

"Kesesesese~ I heard you were in each other's pants~" A slap to the face shut Gilbert up.

"It was a simple argument!" Roderich came out from behind the piano, glancing nervously at the two who just walked in.

"Oh yes, of course you would bring over Tino… how did I not see that coming?" Tino shrugged his shoulders and put a cheerful smile onto his face.

"Alright! What did you need me here for again?"

"We need you to convince Roderich to help us commit a murder!" Tino's smile dropped into a frown.

"I'm sorry, but I don't help people commit serious crimes."

"What is with you people?! It's not like we're gonna kill the president or something!" Berwald sent a glare at Gilbert.

"That is beside the point, Gilbert! I may not actual be the one who commits the murder, but I'm going to have to be the one who cleans up after _your_ mess! I would rather just be the one who has nothing to do with any of you. In fact, why don't you just step out of my house right now?"

"Wait, hold on. Why the heck do you need to commit a _murder_?" Gilbert sighed in exasperation at Tino's question.

"_Because_ I need to fix my broken heart! And I would really feel much better if I was just able to do that without any of you interfering and not cooperating!"

"Hey Tino… why not join our plan? I heard you have a sniper rifle~" No. That was the only thought that came into the mind of Tino Väinämöinen.

"I'm going. If you want a response, I'll text you in an hour. I have to go get more coffee." _'Damn it, Tino! You should have just said no! Then you could get some coffee in peace without the thought of man slaughter hanging over your head!'_

Elizaveta smiled victoriously.

"Now Roderich… care to take up our offer?"


End file.
